Why say anything at all?
by Finnick's Best Friend
Summary: When Finch is forced to watch her brother's death in the arena, she can't get it out of her head. She's lost in the arena and can't seem to find her way out. She feels as if she can't say anything without being found and killed, so why say anything at all?


A/N - Please read and review. Should I continue? I also need some ideas to carry on. I wrote this a little while ago but then stopped, I just want to know whether I should continue.

I woke up this morning with a throbbing head ache and my sheets were drenched in sweat. As I sat up I remembered why; I had dreamed about that night in the arena. I mean, not my night, my brother, Light's, but it had seemed so real to me that I would dream about it through his eyes, through Light's amber eyes, just slightly darker than my own, his windows to the soul. He had the most pure, delicate soul, until the games changed him. He had become blood thirsty and vicious, his eyes filled with hatred.

He was only 14 years old and had been reaped with a 17 year old, he stood no chance. But there were just 9 tributes left, more than half dead after only 5 action packed days, and he had made an alliance with the 15 year old district 6 boy. I don't remember his name, let's just call him Six.

_It was the evening of the 5th day in the arena and Light had volunteered to take first watch. That was the night he really changed, completely lost was the boy everyone at home knew. As soon as the other boy had fallen asleep, he pulled out his knife and reached down to slit the boy's throat. The moment the knife drew blood his eyes flew open. He reached up to clamp his hand on Light's delicate wrist, trying to wrench it away from his throat. He stopped the knife from cutting any deeper but it was too late. It had already penetrated far enough to have sliced through the carotid artery. Desperately trying to stem the gush of blood from his neck, he kicked Light in the stomach; winding him and making him fall back with the knife still clutched in his fist. _

_Six staggered onto his knees and crawled over to where Light now lay, clutching his stomach. He wrestled the knife out of his hand and raised it above Lights chest. Light managed to roll out of the way seconds before the blade plunged into the dry earth where he had just been laying. In the time it took for Six to heave the knife out of the cracked ground and raise it once more, Light had his hands clenched tightly around the back of his neck, speeding up the process of death for Six. _

_When Light felt Six go limp under the tight grip of his fingers, he let go and wiped the blood from his hands onto his t-shirt, dirtying it even more. His throat parched, his fiery red hair bloody and tousled, he started to make his way towards the only source of water in the whole arena: a small salt water lake near the cornucopia. Of course he wasn't going to drink it, just wash and rinse his clothes.  
The journey took about forty-five minutes and by the time he got there he was exhausted. He collapsed into the water and pulled off his shirt, his chest bruised and bloody, mixed with his own and others blood. Light sank down into the cool water, only slightly warmed by the heat of the glaring sun, and closed his eyes, but this was obviously a mistake. Seconds after his eyes closed the career tributes from 1 and 4 jump out from behind the shrubbery that lined the outside of the trees, brandishing knifes and massive great swords at him._

_Light heard the noise and scrambled out of the water ready to defend himself. The careers keep running and as they get closer they begin to form a circle around Light, preventing him from escaping. The biggest and most probably the best trained of the four stepped forward, holding his knife at waist height out in front of him, and lunged forward. _

_Light was caught off guard and didn't manage to jump out of the way in time before the blade plunged into his lower abdomen. He yelled out in pain and fell to his knees, yanking the knife from his body as reached out to snatch up his shirt from the water's edge. The shirt was stained completely scarlet after only 10 seconds of being pressed against the wound and Light was slowly dying.  
The careers jeered and yelled in triumph while they watched the pool of blood around Light slowly grow until he moved no more._

_That's when I usually wake up dripping with sweat and screaming. _


End file.
